


The Things We Wish

by EjBlaKit



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Demon AU, F/M, Growth of a relationship, I swear it's not stockholm, Introspective I guess?, M/M, Reylo - Freeform, They may seem hard but she has a heart of gold, background stormpilot, she makes her own decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 05:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EjBlaKit/pseuds/EjBlaKit
Summary: He waits for her, watches out for her, cares for her as she struggles with her new life. Her new place in it.Demon AU





	The Things We Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya folks! It's sure been awhile.
> 
> I'm stretching my writing muscles to get back into Demonology 101, so don't you worry about that.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my playing around!

Rain dripped from the rusted awning, catching the light of a sun not strong enough to break through racing clouds, which had been bringing showers all day. Trees whispered softly, the world hushed in the aftermath of the latest downpour, air crisp and earthy. Puddles lapped gently through the clumps of grass as each new droplet expanded their reach. A small bird darted from a large pine, pulling up from a steep dive at the very last moment, worm now snared in its beak.

The sigh that escaped her lips was not peaceful, not exactly. Nor was it sad, not wholly. 

Once rain had been a thing of wonder, and though it still captivated now, in the ethereal moods of this day especially, it was hard to enjoy completely. 

"I am sorry," he said, stepping up beside her, silent except for his deep voice. She didn't spare him a glance, content to look out over the woodlands that were her current residence. Her future residence. Her only residence.

The only concept of time here was the rise and fall of the sun, the change of the seasons. She had no need to leave for food, for companionship. He was everything to her. And nothing. A treasure and a burden. A blessing and a curse. 

Once she had friends, a family she had found and made.

Now she had him. 

"What are you sorry for?" She asked eventually, glancing out towards the river, glimpsed through the trees as it caught a rather brave outburst of sunlight. Dazzling, crystalline fractures amongst the browns and greens. 

Another bird swooped, left empty-beaked. Something rustled in a clump of bushes, too far away to be alarming. 

"Everything. Nothing." He shrugged, though she wouldn't have known it had she not caught the movement in her periphery. Her enigma. Her silent sentinel. 

"We had a deal," she said softly, though he still heard it. He heard everything. He always ran hot, his hands were strong, calloused. 

"It has been upheld."

"Then why are you sorry?" 

The next droplet was red, slipping from a hole in the corrugated sheet metal above their heads. Fresh rain began to patter, echoing loud, drumming over them, softer on the mud and greenery. 

"Come inside," he said instead. He turned to face her, arms gesturing her towards the door, where a fire crackled merrily inside, where fur rugs and a mug of tea were waiting her company, a dog eared book half concealed by her pillow. 

She hesitated for a moment, felt the cold spray on her arms. 

She turned and followed him inside, watching as his feet made no impression on the carpets. 

They settled in their customary spots. Her on the floor, in her nest, him by the window, arms folded over his chest, watching, waiting. 

His head tilted ever so slightly.

"Go." She said, showing him her back, picking up the novel, run her fingers over the edges until she found her notched space. 

"I will be back." He said, and vanished.

***

He returned three days later, smelling of perfume and covered in marks from another woman. He has long ago learned that she hated him hiding his transgressions. His work. It was a part of him, and she preferred to face her mistakes head on.

"What this time?"

"Philandering husband," he turned to let her inspect the damage, and she couldn't help the hiss that escaped her as she studied the gouges in his back. The woman must have had long nails, and thought he couldn't be hurt. A flicker of rage ignited in her chest, though she kept her expression carefully curious. "He will only ever be able to maintain an erection and find sexual release with his now ex-wife."

"How awful for him," she said, before stepping back. She waved her hand and he obligingly stepped out of his pants. Bruises decorated his thighs and shins, his calves and more gouges on his arse, too. "She clearly had her own issues." 

"I let the husband know how to contact me," he said. She gifted him a genuine smile.

"Good."

Satisfied, she allowed him to remove the damage, and he retired to the bathroom to cleanse himself in the human way that he preferred. She could hear the tub filling, the pipes groaning ever so slightly. He left the door open, but she never joined him.

***

"Barren and penniless," he told her the next morning.

"That was fast." Her eyebrows rose over her mug of tea. She watched him shrug, the small, satisfied smile that curved his lips. She could never be completely mad at him, not when he seemed to carry his own sense of balance and justice. Hers was merely a more extreme side effect. 

"Would you like to go to town today?" He asked. She almost dropped her cup.

"As in, be around other people?" 

"I will make sure you say only the right things." He said, as though it were a reassurance. And it was. 

"Let me get dressed." She pushed away from the table and into the bedroom, pulling out jeans and a cardigan. She had no way to know where exactly he would take her, but she found she didn't care. Hopping into her shoes she met him on the porch. He smiled nervously and extended his hand.

"Watch your words," he said.

"I will." She grasped his calloused fingers and felt her existence shimmer about her.

The city was familiar. Achingly familiar, when she opened her eyes and blinked.

Her city.

Her home.

Old home.

An old life.

He followed her faithfully through haunted streets, the both of them navigating easily through crowded walkways, ducking under umbrellas and dodging pamphlet bearers. She kept her mouth shut until they wound up in a cafe she always used to visit. A hole in the wall place with cheap food that could barely fit on the plate. 

She ordered carefully, and his eyes were on her mouth the entire time. She licked her lips and glanced at him. His gaze was molten. She swallowed and looked quickly away, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears, adjusting her position on the seat, looking out at the street through slightly smudged windows. It almost felt normal. Almost.

They ate, talking quietly. He listened to her talk about her friends, the ones she'd left behind. How they used to frequent this place before class, during breaks, after work. They managed to survive high rent and high expenses, because this place was so cheap, was so giving. The Castle was a fond place, and she still felt at home here, welcomed by the waitress who seemed to recognise her, and had worked here for an eternity. A large tip was left on the table as they left. He didn't question it, nor did he say a thing when she took his hand in hers and refused to let him go for the rest of the day. 

That night she climbed into the tub with him, skin slippery as she straddled him, savouring the almost innocent, achingly hopeful expression on his face as she wrapped her hand around his hard length and guided him into her. 

They didn't care about the water on the floor as she threw her head back and his eyes rolled into the back of his skull, fingers bruising on her hips, loud over the silence of their home. He came breathing her name. She came with his skin between her lips, her hold possessive around his neck. They dried naked in front of the fire, mapping out each other's bodies with tongues and fingertips.

***

"I want to speak," she said softly, mist curling about them as they stood by the river, watching the sun rise.

"You will never be able to take it back," he warned. 

A long bird began to sing, warbling through the pinks and purples of what would be a pleasant day. At their feet the water burbled, carrying twigs and branches to some unknown point downstream. 

"I have done things I already cannot take back."

His hand found hers and held tight.

"If you are sure."

"I am."

***

She was gone for a full day before she returned, tired but happy. She thrummed with an energy he recognised easily. Savoured the way it caressed his skin as readily as it did hers.

"A child," she said, "a lonely child."

"Good." He didn't need any more than that. He knew it would get harder, more demanding. At least she had been allowed to start lightly. He ran her a bath and washed her limbs before curling into bed with her, wrapping his huge frame about her slight one.

"I wish they would all be this easy," she said into the darkness, as they lay unsleeping for hours.

"For your sake, I wish the same," he said, though their wishes were empty.

***

She seemed to have been blessed with a fortune he had never possessed. She would always come back smiling, exhausted, but sated and happy. Innocent wishes, protector of the young, helpless and weak. It suited her, this role, brought her out of her self-imposed shell. She was invigorated, strong.

Until she came back bruised and bloody, tears leaking down her face, naked and used. There were things broken in her, leaking and torn.

There was only darkness as he stood and stared at her, as she raised her arms and spun like she had made him do so often. But there was no silent judgement from him. His rage flattened the embers in the hearth, sucked the warmth from the day. It pebbled her skin, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Who?" He said. "How?"

"He wanted a business, under-aged, thought that we couldn't have moral objections." She said. "So he changed the parameters."

"Who." His voice rumbled out of him, thunder in the gloom of his anger. 

"I took my payment." She said. Something wicked and hard shuddered through her. Something that had never been there before. It thrilled him and dismayed him all at once. 

He showed her how to take away the pain, to restore what had been broken. Her organs were trickier, she could not see what she was doing, and the bones were painful. But she got it right. She allowed his hands on her body, his lips on her neck as he scrubbed away the evidence. 

"I will only ever have one payment for people like that," she said as they lay in the grass under the night sky. Above them the heavens twinkled, stars blotted out only by the tree line and the occasional bat. 

"You have to be careful," he breathed into her hair. "It is a harsh price that we must pay."

"You pay it."

"Yes," he said, "and that is why you must not."

***

She watched from the window, hidden by pedestrians as he bent down, grin wide across his face as he scooped up the five year old, clutching the young girl to his chest.

Her heart ached and she bit her lip, glad to feel something other than disgust and sorrow. For while this was bittersweet, it was also joyous. 

"Daddy!" She heard the little girl shriek, even over the noise of the city. "Daddy!" She said again, twisting in the first mans arms, wriggling towards a second, as both men leant over her head, lips meeting. Their gaze held, deep and meaningful. A secret conversation, before their attention returned to the daughter between them, words hidden from her.

"Was it the right thing?" The deep voice at her shoulder asked. 

A screech of metal rending through metal, panicked cries. Blood, so much blood. Limp limbs and clotted hair. Unseeing eyes and pierced flesh, doll clutched in shattered fingers. Her voice screaming over the roar of a trapped engine, over the drowning, red gurgles of her best friend, his head heavy in her hands, his partner unresponsive and unmoving meters down the road, limbs twisted unnaturally. Her voice hoarse, the flicker of a shadow, a whispered promise. A deal made and signed with a copper kiss. 

"It was," she said, taking his hand and stepping into his warmth. "I would do it again and again."

"You were not made for this life," he said.

"No," she shook her head, smiling ruefully as the family settled into their seats, sending away the waiter as they talked instead of choosing their meals. "But you made me for you."

**Author's Note:**

> Yeap, Kylo's a big bad demon, and he made a deal with Rey to turn her into one as well. She couldn't let her friends die, after all.
> 
> And no, this is in no way related to Demonology, I just wanted to play around a bit. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Hit me up on my tumblr (darth-ej), and feel free to leave a comment or something below to let me know I haven't faded into obscurity since TLJ came out!


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